Chapter 2 - The Blockade
Panic instantly erupted inside the community center as wedding guests began screaming and rushing toward the exits.
Heavily armed soldiers poured through the front doors, forming a protective human shield around my father and me.
Tristan tried to grab my arm to pull me back toward him, but a soldier forcefully shoved him to the floor.
"Maisie, please listen to me, we can still get married!" Tristan yelled desperately from the ground.
I looked down at the man I had loved just an hour ago and felt nothing but pure disgust.
"You made your choice when you humiliated my family, Tristan," I told him coldly before turning my back on him forever.
General Vance quickly escorted us toward the back exit of the building, keeping his hand hovering over his sidearm.
Outside, the quiet streets of Oakridge had been completely blocked off by massive black military vehicles.
"The local police have been compromised, Major," Vance explained as he shoved us into the back of a heavily armored SUV.
My father held my hand tightly, his rough, calloused fingers providing the only comfort in this sudden nightmare.
"I promised my wife I would never let them touch our daughter," my father said, his eyes scanning the dark tree line outside the window.
Suddenly, the encrypted radio on the dashboard crackled to life with a frantic voice.
"General, we have multiple unknown hostile vehicles breaching the perimeter from the south," the voice warned.
The SUV accelerated rapidly, throwing me back against the leather seat as tires squealed against the pavement.
I stared in horror as three black vans without license plates aggressively rammed through the military barricade ahead of us.
Gunfire immediately shattered the peaceful evening air, echoing loudly off the suburban houses.
Our driver swerved violently to avoid a collision, sending our heavy vehicle crashing through a wooden fence.
We came to a jarring halt in an empty, muddy field, the engine smoking heavily from the impact.
"Everyone stay down!" General Vance shouted, drawing his weapon as shadows began moving rapidly outside our shattered windows.
My father reached under the passenger seat, pulling out a hidden tactical rifle I never knew he kept in his old gardening truck.
He checked the magazine with terrifying efficiency, proving that the gentle gardener I knew had always been a highly trained soldier.
"Maisie, whatever happens next, you do exactly what the General says," my father ordered in a tone that allowed no argument.
Before I could even nod in agreement, my phone buzzed brightly in the darkness of the ruined SUV.
May you like
I glanced at the glowing screen and saw a text message from an unknown number.
"Do not trust General Vance, he is the one who sold out your mother twenty years ago."
